This Sounds Cliched, But I Think I Love You
by ChocolateIsMyDrug
Summary: From Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, the scene where Raj tells Simran he loves her, then blabbers on about random stuff. Have fun wading through the randomness.


**This Sounds Clichéd, But I Think I Love You**

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**Author's Note: **Oh my God, we have our own Bollywood section! Yay!!!! Okay, I'm over it now. Since there aren't many fics in here at the moment (two, the last time I checked), I guess I'll have to fill it up.

From _Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge_, the scene where Raj tells Simran he loves her. Cookies to the people who guess which other movies are hinted at in this fic (clues: the first one have SRK and Kajol's very certain cousin in it, and the second one features the bad guy of Bollywood + a certain Miss World 1994).

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_Madness._ That was what this was. A fiancé, a marriage to happen. Where did he come into this? He had thought that maybe he even had a chance… but then his hopes had been dashed when she had told him she had a fiancé.

There was one thing that kept him wondering, though. She remained tight-lipped on how she felt about all this. Maybe she was being forced into it. Maybe she was actually in love with him.

The stupid sappy, romantic side of him sighed and allowed him to dream as he played his lute, overlooking the bridge.

Then the more rational side of him slapped him in the face with the other side of the situation. _Maybe_, _maybe_, _maybe…_

To hell with that! Maybe she _didn't _love him. Maybe they were doomed to be just friends or not even that for all eternity. The notes of the lute slowed and stopped.

He had just decided that he was going to keep quiet when his father's words came back to him…

'I sacrificed my years of youth, but I did not regret it, because I knew my son would live them out for me. He would make good on whatever I missed out on. He would live life's joys for me.

'Never say your years of youth are over, my son.'

If he didn't say what had to be said now, he would regret it. He would end up at Simran's wedding, trying to smile as he watched her getting married to some other guy. His father would make sure of that – hell, _God_ would make sure of that if he didn't fess up!

'Okay,' he said to God. 'I'll say it, alright? You happy? I'll say it first thing tomorrow!'

The sun went behind the clouds.

'Fine!' he yelled. 'When I next see her then!' He smirked to himself. _Take that, God! I can procrastinate if I want!_

The lute's clear notes could be heard once more. 

Until they stopped again.

Really, it was a pity… he had only been going for about twenty seconds when he stopped.

There _was_ a reason why he stopped, though.

He stopped because there was a very familiar tap on his shoulder.

In the split second before he stiffened and turned around, Raj wondered how the hell that tap was familiar, seeing as how she had never really tapped him on the shoulder before.

And also fitted into that extremely long split second, he managed to damn God for making the next time he saw Simran twenty seconds after his attempt at procrastination. _Well, _he thought,looking at it objectively, _I guess it's kind of hard to get one up on God. That guy always seems to get the last laugh._

_Then_ after that extremely long split second had passed, Raj stiffened and turned around.

He gulped as some extremely clichéd and pathetically poetic lines whirled through his head as he saw her. Some crap about eyes like the moon and hair like the night or something. What was _wrong_ with him?

Then his heart flip-flopped in the most clichéd and sappy way and he had those girly butterflies in his stomach again. He marvelled at the fact that she could make him feel like a gawky teenager again. Well, not so much marvelled as cursed.

Then as an afterthought he wondered how long he had been staring at her without saying anything.

She was looking at him like he was thick. 'What's the matter?' she asked slowly. 'Why are you staring like that?'

Inside, he panicked. He frantically tried to think up some excuse. Maybe he could say she had a smudge on her face or – or –

The sky rumbled threateningly. Raj winced. Inwardly cursing God for being all-powerful and himself for the stupid promise he had made to God, Raj decided to go for it.

_Confidence, _he thought to himself, _confidence is the key. She loves you. She loves you. She loves you._

But a second later when he told her that he returned the favour, he didn't sound so confident. He knew his face was turning pink and he had stumbled on the 'I' part and rushed the end. So it had really sounded like, 'I – I've falleninlovewithyou'.

Still, he could tell she understood, since her mouth fell slightly open and she stared.

And stared.

And stared some more.

Clinging onto the vain hope that maybe she hadn't heard properly, he repeated slowly and clearly, 'I love you, Simran.'

But still she stared.

And stared.

And stared some more. The tiniest of frowns creased her forehead and she bit her lip.

That was when he decided that perhaps something was wrong. And that if he didn't backtrack extremely hastily, he was going to get his heart ripped out of his chest and poked incessantly with a spork and kicked all across Europe.

Inwardly cursing God for making him do this, he burst out laughing.

He laughed for a good ten seconds before snorting, 'You should've seen your face! You thought I was telling the _truth_, didn't you? It's amazing, Simran. You've known me for so long… remember – remember I told you I've _never _been serious before? Just look at your face!' He started chortling again, though he was far from amused.

She folded her arms, scowling, in a defensive stance, muttering something about this being 'just too much'.

'I wonder how some people stay with just one girl their whole lives.' He sighed. 'It's a world full of such pretty women… some have beautiful eyes, some have good lips, some have nice hair, some have –'

'All you guys are the same!' she exploded.

Raj raised a sceptical eyebrow. 'Ah, but you're one up on all of us, aren't you? You're going to be spending your entire life with a man you've never met, never seen, never spoken to. Wow, that _must _be true love!'

Silence. Huffy silence.

'Simran,' he said, thinking that he might as well find out something along the way, now that he had broached the subject, 'hey, Simran!' She still looked huffy at the fact that he had joked about something this serious again. Of course, he wasn't really joking, but she didn't know that.

But she was still over-reacting. Just like she had last time.

…Well, maybe convincing her that they had slept together while she was drunk was a little thoughtless, but she was lying on _his_ bed, wearing _his_ shirt… oh, it had been too perfect to give up…

'Simran, Simran, Simran!' He clicked his fingers in front of her face. 'Anyway, forget all that. But if you were to imagine, hypothetically, of course that you were in love with a hypothetical someone who is of course purely hypothetical – as is this discussion –'

She smiled a little, and he relaxed, knowing he was forgiven… for now. 'Go on,' she said.

Raj grinned. 'So, imagine that you're in love with _someone _you met on this trip. And say that this _someone_ loves you as well. And then just say that this _someone_ – wait, why someone? OK, say you're in love with me and I'm in love with you too. Hypothetically, of course.'

He paused for breath to see if she was following.

'I can't see where you're heading with this, but go on – I'm sure you have a point,' she teased.

'Getting there. So I love you, you love me, we love each other and we're lovable. I'm happy, you're happy, we're both happy, it is happy.' He was babbling now, and he knew it, but he couldn't help it. 'But then what will you do? Will you go back and marry that stranger, the man you've never seen or met before? Or will you have the courage to have an affair with me? What will you do?'

He watched her intently for some sign, but her face was unreadable. Then the train's whistle blew.

She looked up at him. 'I don't want to miss the train again,' she said, turning away.

'But I want to miss it again and again,' he muttered under his breath.

'What?' she asked, looking at him again.

He smiled. 'Nothing,' he said.

She rolled her eyes and walked off, smiling.

Slinging his lute over his shoulder, he watched her retreating back. This couldn't be it. It couldn't just end like this. Not after God forcing her to come there for him to confess only to have his love unrequited.

_If she loves me, _he thought, _she'll turn around and look at me._

He watched her retreating back. No sign of turning.

'Turn,' he said.

Still she walked on.

'Turn,' he said.

She ran a hand through her hair and walked on.

She reached the door of the train.

Three… two… one… 

'Turn,' he said.

She turned.

He couldn't stop the stupid grin that plastered itself on his face.

She smiled and shook her head before entering the train.

And on the train journey back to London, Raj cursed God for making him grin like an idiot all the way back home.

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**Author's Note 2 (i.e. Desperate Plea for Reviews): **I have written stuff before, but this is my first attempt at a Bollywood fanfic, so be nice. All reviews are appreciated, constructive criticism is gladly accepted and I don't particularly like flames, but if that's how you want to express yourself, go ahead.

Also, I know I didn't stick to the dialogue completely, but I was in a random blabbering mood, so I made poor Raj my outlet. Though if you think about it, he is the King of Random Blabbering (think Simran with the Polizei what in the name of Merlin's beard was he going on about? Ah well, you gotta love Raj.).

Yes, well. It seems that random blabbering is one of my talents as well. You know, there was this one time where – stuff that. Just review… you know you want to…

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